


i don't care (you got your tongue against my neck)

by leifstroganoff



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, and there was only one bed, this one is for the discord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25545058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leifstroganoff/pseuds/leifstroganoff
Summary: She doesn’t know how she ended up here, in a position she would never have considered possible. Except that she does know. She knows very, very well how she ended up here and she doesn’t even have alcohol or a flimsy excuse to blame it on.It was supposed to just be a simple work trip. A road trip, a stay at a hotel (covered by SPRQpoint and quite fancy, if Zoey were to say so herself), and an important meeting with someone who was interested in investing in SPRQpoint. It should’ve been easy. It should’ve been knocked out and she should’ve been able to spend as little time with Tobin as possible, finishing the meeting and going back to her hotel room alone and spending some time to relax.
Relationships: Tobin Batra/Zoey Clarke
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	i don't care (you got your tongue against my neck)

**Author's Note:**

> this one really is for the discord bc we're Horny Bastards but also zobin would be a good pairing and we're all cowards
> 
> one day i'll feel comfortable writing anything but handjobs and eating out but for now This Is What You Get

She doesn’t know how she ended up here, in a position she would _never_ have considered possible. Except that she does know. She knows very, very well how she ended up here and she doesn’t even have alcohol or a flimsy excuse to blame it on. 

It was supposed to just be a simple work trip. A road trip, a stay at a hotel (covered by SPRQpoint and _quite fancy,_ if Zoey were to say so herself), and an important meeting with someone who was interested in investing in SPRQpoint. It should’ve been easy. It should’ve been knocked out and she should’ve been able to spend as little time with Tobin as possible, finishing the meeting and going back to her hotel room alone and spending some time to _relax._

But then they’d arrived and the hotel had had some errors in their system and there was only _one_ room available. Which would’ve been _fine_ if that room had more than one bed but it was a queen suite and while that in and of itself was _nice,_ there was literally zero percent of Zoey that wanted to share a bed with Tobin, no matter how much development she had seen from him in the past year or so.

Still, despite Zoey’s initial worries, they do a good job working together at the meeting and she feels good enough, considering, when they come back to the hotel room at the end of the night. They’re actually talking and laughing and understanding each other by the time they go to bed; she almost feels like she’s spending time with a different person than the Tobin she’s known for the past six years. 

She’s surprisingly comfortable when they actually get ready for bed and lay down. Even when he falls asleep first and rolls over in his sleep and lays his arm around her torso with a soft snore, she doesn’t mind it. If she’s being honest with herself, it’s nice to be held in such a soft way, even if he doesn’t seem to be aware of it.

It’s easy to fall asleep when she can sync her breathing up to the soft breaths coming from behind her. She wakes up at about midnight (it’s not that she’s been having trouble sleeping anyways, but she might’ve been having trouble sleeping anyway, preoccupied by the feel of an arm holding her tight) but the first thing she notices isn’t how comfortable she feels (though, she definitely doesn’t want to acknowledge how comfortable she feels), it’s that Tobin’s clearly having a dream about something much more exciting because she can feel it pressed into her back side. 

“Tobin,” She turns around, not bothering to move out from under his arm, shaking his shoulder gently. “Hey, Tobes.”

She doesn’t have time to think about the fact that the only person she’s ever heard call him Tobes is Leif because his brown eyes are blinking awake and his sleepy _‘wh-’_ is far too adorable for the reason she’s waking him up. 

“You’re, uh --"

He realizes before she’s finished, closing his eyes tight, and at least he has the decency to be embarrassed. 

“Shit, I’m really sorry, I --”

To both of their surprise, she moves her lips forward to kiss him and _holy shit, Zoey, what are you doing?_

Before either of them have a chance to process it, he’s rolled on top of her and the kiss has deepened considerably, tongues shoving against each other. It’s not pretty (when is a makeout like this pretty? Zoey firmly believes the media has been selling her lies for her entire life), but it feels _good_ and she wants _more._

She never would’ve imagined herself in bed with Tobin, let alone _kissing_ him, but as his lips move against her own, hungry, yet caring in a way she never would’ve expected, it’s undeniable that she’s _here_ and that it’s happening and she doesn’t even have tequila or vodka to shift the blame onto. This is all her, _wanting this._ Wanting _him. What the fuck, Zoey?_

Despite every warning alarm in her brain telling her this is a bad idea, she finds herself tugging at the bottom of his hoodie until he pulls away long enough for her to pull it over his head and throw it to the side (she’s never been very good about actually listening to those warning bells, anyways). His lips crash back into hers as soon as the hoodie is gone; she’s not sure if the heat spreading through her body is because of the weight of him on top of her or because his lips make haste to move over to her jaw and his stubble is just rough enough to cause friction but either way she needs more, _big time._

“Mhm,” It takes her a second to get her thoughts together, the sensation of wet lips that have moved down to suck on her pulse point easily wiping all rational thoughts from her head. “Tobin.”

He draws back from her neck, dilated brown eyes meeting her own, intense but soft in a way she doesn’t think she’s really seen them before (or, at least, not that she’s cared to _notice,_ he hasn’t exactly been a focal point of her attention).

“We’re doing this?” She’s embarrassed at how earnest she sounds, how much she wants this. 

“I’m game if you’re game.” 

After a smile and a nod (and she’s only a little mad at how absolutely adorable his smile is), he pulls his t-shirt over his head and moves back to work on her neck, relishing in the light moans drawn out from beneath his lips. 

He looks up at her through lidded eyes as he kisses down her neck, stopping at the neckline of her sweater and toying at the hem before pulling away to help her pull it off. Zoey can’t help but think that he’s surprisingly… _sweet._

He shifts his weight off of her long enough for her to unbutton her pants and slide them off, leaving her laying in her bra and panties. He quickly moves back to straddle her, his legs resting on either side of her hips. His gaze isn’t quite as pervasive as she expects it to be; it seems almost imploring, inquiring, wanting to take her in as the person she is and not the _object_ she might’ve thought he would take her as. If that makes her feel an inexplicable fondness in the moment, she deliberately ignores it. 

He’s only staring at her for a second, but it feels like ten minutes before his hands rest on either side of her torso and his thumbs rub slowly against soft skin. 

He leans down and lays a kiss on her ribcage, right below the line of her bra. It’s soft and it retains that softness as he kisses down her stomach and looks up to let soft brown eyes meet blue ones which nod in encouragement as he kisses over the waistline of her panties, moving down to where there’s the faintest wet spot soaking through soft cotton. 

He starts with a brush of his thumb against her clit through the cotton, earning him a hitch in her breath and a soft _‘oh’._ Then he leans forward to move his mouth against the cotton, earning him a considerably less soft _‘oh’_ accompanied by a hand forcing itself into his hair. He pulls away for a second and her hand shifts from the top of his head to the back, moving into a fist full of hair as he pulls her panties down and past her ankles, tossing them to the side. 

When he moves back between her legs, it’s to press a kiss to her mid-thigh (and he could at least feel _bad_ about being a tease). He places small kisses up her thigh until he’s right next to her crotch, moving his lips to the other side and sucking on the soft skin until he’s sure there’ll be bruised skin to show for his efforts. 

He inches closer with soft presses of his lips and she’s pretty sure she would give anything for him to just eat her out already - c’mon man, she’s dying out here.

He finally moves his lips over her vagina, swiping his tongue in and _fuck,_ she did not think he would be this competent. It’s hard for her to think with his tongue moving the way it is and his beard rubbing against her thighs the way it is, but the thought that _does_ cross her mind is that maybe his braggadocious attitude is at least a little bit well-earned. 

He’s focused and earnest and, most importantly, he knows exactly what he’s doing as he runs his tongue up and closes his mouth over her clit, drawing out a moan that makes a cocky smirk grow on his face. Every movement of his tongue draws out a new sound from her throat, hand gripped in a fist in his hair, pushing his head forward, begging for _more, more, more._

“Tobin,” His tongue moves with more fervor the tighter she grips his hair, working hard, working to _please._ “Tobin, I’m gonna --” 

He feels her start to tighten around his tongue and he makes the decision to move his focus up to her clit, drawing out the breathiest moan he’s heard of his name as he works her through her orgasm, her legs shaking slightly where his hands rest on either thigh. 

When she comes down, he moves back up to kiss her on the lips where she can taste herself and it’s absolutely intoxicating as his thumbs rub idly just below her rib cage. 

It’s a minute of lazy kissing before she’s able to regain her thoughts, which immediately point to the boner she can feel pressing against her thigh. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to push him onto his back and straddle his hips, deciding very quickly to return the favor. 

* * *

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s to an empty bed beside him. He can still feel the warmth on his neck, where he knows Zoey fell asleep the night before, but when he sits up, there is no Zoey to be found. 

It’s not that he wants her to be there because it’s not like he _cares about her_ (he does, undeniably, he’s just kind of a dumbass). It’s when he goes to start cleaning up the room and getting dressed that he realizes his hoodie is no longer on the floor where they’d thrown it the night before.

It’s a second later that Zoey comes out of the bathroom with a yawn and he suddenly feels like he can’t breath, like there’s an electric current running through his veins and up to his brain, completely shutting off any early morning function that _might’ve_ been possible. She’s wearing nothing but his color-blocked hoodie and it would’ve turned him on again if it didn’t make his stomach go all a-flutter. 

“What?” 

“Hm?” His eyebrows raise, still not really processing anything. 

“You’re staring.” Her voice feigns innocence but the smile on her face says exactly the opposite as she approaches him on the bed. If they have a round two before packing up to leave, it’s nobody's business but their own. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments tell me that my writing is actually passable and that im not just screaming into the void


End file.
